The poem includes the following lines, which I've been reading over and over.
I’ll be working
for ages alone. I’m glad that he’s gone,
I breathe easier now. I work harder
now, too. On my knees, this monk whose fingers
ache for heaven.
I like how it doesn't say "working / alone for ages" and how that subtle difference shifts the meaning (or at least the emphasis). I can't help but see some elegy in that moment, a reading that leads to an ambiguity that makes me just a little bit uncomfortable at the same time that the speaker claims to "breathe easier."
I also like the word scrupulosity.
Music at the moment: Arcade Fire, The Suburbs